


Seaside

by Bubonicc



Series: Merformers [6]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Human Ratchet, Human Skids, Humanformers, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mer Swerve, Merformers, Other, ovipos ??, tags with time im still working on it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-11-29 22:08:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11450040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bubonicc/pseuds/Bubonicc
Summary: Life in pieces, memory fuzzy, little money in his pocket, Skids is running out of options. Landing himself a job at a cozy little seaside restaurant, he finds himself making an unlikely friend.





	Seaside

**Author's Note:**

> Intro/settings chapter, better stuff to come with time.

He stood by the road, glancing up at the building and then back down at the small scrap of paper clenched tightly between his fingers. Doing his best to keep the wind from stealing it from him, he squinted at the address to confirm he was in the right place.

                The paper had been torn clumsily from a newspaper, but the 'help wanted' was still clearly visible, along with a small picture of the building it had been advertised for. Lowering the paper and giving the building one last look, he was indeed at the proper place. The fact that there was also a help wanted sign hanging slightly askew from the stair railing was also a pretty good hint he was where he was supposed to be.

                Built upon a dock to overhang a bit of the ocean, the quaint little restaurant sat peacefully. It had been slightly dislodged from the main part of town, but that didn't seem to stop customers from gathering. In fact, it had only been a few hours after sunrise and already several cars had pulled up into the sea shell covered parking lot for breakfast.

                Sucking in a deep breath and stuffing the ad into his jeans, Skids looked down at himself, grimacing almost immediately. He was in a dirty blue shirt and stained jeans, not exactly proper interview attire. In his current state he would have been surprised if one of the local tuna fishers would even hire him to haul cargo.

                Shirt un-tucked from several parts of his pants, the material was wrinkled beyond hope. It hadn't helped that several large stains blotched random areas to match the stains on his pants.

                Eyes sunken into the back of his head, he looked like he hadn't slept for several days and in truth, he hadn't. Having lived out of his car for the past few weeks, sleep was hard to come by in the backseat of his cramped little car. Hotels were nice, but money was an issue and a luxury he couldn't afford.

                His hair was a mess; tossed all out of sorts and sticking out in all sorts of directions any attempt to tame it failed. It hadn't stopped him from trying though. He ran his hand over the top of his head over and over until the majority of the stray hairs stayed down.

                Running his hands down his face when he was done, he sighed at the bristling feeling of 5-o’clock shadow coming in. Too late to shave now, hopefully he didn't look too homeless.

                Giving himself one last look over to make sure he was as presentable as possible, he climbed. When he reached the main deck he paused at the top to look out over the ocean. It was certainly something beautiful, even if the faint pink glow of the sun had passed to leave the water an elegant blue.

                Taking it in for a few moments more, Skids finally turned for the door. Entering the restaurant, a small bell chimed over his head to signal his arrival. Closing the door behind him and stepping in a bit more, he looked around the dining room.

                It was a lot larger than it appeared to be outside, but then again Skids had only seen it from the parking lot's angle. For a rather mundane looking building on the outside, it was rather modern and upbeat on the inside.

                Several television sets hung along the wall, for the most part muted and playing the local news while several tables were placed around them. Across the room there were two large doors that led outside to even more dining tables. Currently the door had been closed, probably too early for outside dining, and too cold.

                It hadn't surprised Skids to see several elderly people scattered about the room, newspapers and coffee in hand. Some sat alone, wanting the morning quiet to themselves, while several older women casually gossiped in the far corner, away from sight and prying ears.

                A bar stood off-centered at the back of the restaurant, and Skids saw a single woman working behind it, lazily polishing glasses, inspecting them, and hanging them on a rack to dry.

                Skids swallowed hard, and rubbed at the back of his neck, patting a cold sweat that had broken out. He walked over to the barmaid with all the false confidence he could muster, before he remembered about the ad, and stopped abruptly to fish it out of his grubby pockets.

                "Need something, sweetheart? Take a seat," she said, nodding her head to an empty stool as Skids struggled to unfold the crumpled paper.

                "I- uh, yes actually." Setting the paper down on the counter and sliding it towards her, he watched her look at it. "I'm here about the job offering- if it's still available, that is." He’d been hunting for work for weeks, each passing day burning an ever deepening hole in his pocket. He’d barely had enough cash to fill his tank one last time. If he ever drove the clunker again, it would be to sell the damn thing.

                The barmaid looked up at him for a moment, her eyes scanning him before looking back at the ad. She leant down out of Skids' view, and he heard some glasses rustling around. After a moment the women popped back up with a white mug and set it down in front of him.

                "Sure, I'll get the manager for you to speak with." Turning around once more and taking a pot of coffee from its burner, the woman then poured some into the mug in front of Skids. "On the house, looks like you could use it."

                "Ah... thank you," he said, trying not to choke up from the sudden kindness. His eyes bright, Skids waited for her to finish pouring before sliding the mug towards himself. Cupping his hands around the warm mug and licking his lips, he smiled down at the dark liquid.

                "Here-" The woman slid a few creamers and sugars at him, "you don't look like you drink coffee raw," she said, giving Skids a gentle smile. She turned on her heels and vanished through two double doors at the side of the bar.

                Mixing a few of the creams and sugars into his coffee, Skids lifted the mug to his mouth. Blowing away the steam and gingerly taking a sip, his shoulders sagged contently. Coffee had never tasted so good. Sucking down about half of the liquid, Skids set the mug down and let out a pleasant sigh.

                The double doors leading back to what Skids could only imagine was the kitchen swung open abruptly, causing him to nearly spill the last bit of his coffee in surprise. A rather pudgy man waddled from the back, pausing to look around the dining room before locking eyes with Skids.

                “You’re here for the job?” The man looked more like the chef than the manager. A stained apron hung over his round belly and his face was covered in sweat.

                “Y-yeah, that’s me.” Standing from his stool, Skids leaned over the bar and extended his hand, feeling a tight knot of doubt twist in his belly when the manager suddenly looked him up and down. The look on the man’s face seemed skeptical, and for a brief moment Skids had been certain he would have been thrown out for trying to panhandle poorly.

                He had done his best to tame his hair and tuck in his shirt, but still, he looked like a bum. Perhaps he should have found a change of clothing before coming in, but it was too late for that now.

                A wave of relief washed over him when the plump man grabbed his hand and gave it a few firm, powerful shakes, releasing all the sudden tension. Thank god, he wasn’t sure how much longer he could mill around looking for odd jobs.

                “What’s your name?” Releasing Skids’ hand, the manager turned around and walked back towards the double doors without waiting for a reply.

                “Skids-” He blurted out, eyes following the manager as he walked away.  

                “Skids, hmm? Follow me.” Hesitating as he watched the man shove past the doors, Skids quickly followed. Cautiously pushing past the double doors as if he didn’t belong there, he timidly stepped into the new room.

                As he had first assumed the doors had lead back into a kitchen area. Much like the outside, everything was neat and proper. Prep tables had fish laid out on them while a worker Skids had yet to meet sliced them apart, no doubt getting ready for the lunch rush.

                Something soft struck Skids’ chest and he jumped, catching the fabric less than gracefully in his fumbling hands.

                “You’re hired,” the manager said as he watched Skids unfold the apron and give it a questioning look. The manager put his hands on his hips, “do you know how to cook? What about bussing tables?”        

                “Ah… yeah.” To an extent sure, but he certainly wasn’t a master chef. Somewhere in the distant past, a younger version of himself had worked in little coffee shops when he lived on the mainland. Sure he was out of practice, but with time, he could get in the swing of it again. How hard could it be?

                “Good, and you know the ad is for full time work, right? This isn’t a summer position. I need hands on deck at all times. The summer is coming and it’s the busiest time of the year here. The mornings are slow, nothing but the old birds, lunch and dinner are the busiest times. I can’t have young punks here who just up and leave when it gets busy. Can I count on you?”

                “Yes, of course. Actually, I wanted to ask you for all available shifts. Doesn’t matter what time for day, I’ll work whatever you have.” With no obligations to speak of, and a burning need for cash, he would work day and night if he had too. Enough to get him an apartment, food in his belly each night, and his life back together. “I’d also like to start as soon as possible.”

                The manager itched at his own incoming five o’clock shadow as he considered Skids’ request. After a drawn out silence, he finally nodded.

                “Alright,” He raised a hand to Skids before he could thank him. “You can work everyday as long as you take at least one day a week off. It will be better for you to try and take the same day off every week rather than randomly choose. Takes pressure off the business when I know what days I need someone else to come in. You will also be paid every Friday after closing. Tips don’t get divided between bussers, so don’t take a tip from a table you didn’t wait. If I found out you do, you’re out. No drinking while working, and on lunch break meals here are half off.” It was a good deal, better than anything he had offered to him in the last few weeks.

                “I can’t thank you enough.” Shaking the manager’s hand one last time, Skids put the apron around himself.

                “You can start slow today, get the feel of the place before you work out in the dining room. The sink has plenty of dishes for you to occupy yourself with and as the day goes on there will be plenty more. Maybe some prep work, and taking out the trash. Tomorrow morning when all the old regulars come in we will get you going on bussing.” Bringing coffee back and forth to a bunch of old island folk seemed like a good start, and he was thankful for it. “I’ll leave you to it then.” With a nod, the manager vanished from the kitchen, leaving Skids to stand there and look around.

                There was a board on the wall with several local fliers pinned to it, the work schedule, some pictures of people Skids could only assume were other workers. Shots of the building, old and new, dinner specials for the week, recipe guides, just miscellaneous things really.

                Turning around and searching the room for his work, Skids spotted the sink at the far end of the room. Like the manager had said, dishes had stacked up and there certainly wasn’t a shortage of them. It would keep him busy for the remainder of the day. Plus, it was only two days before Friday, which meant pay, and pay meant food.

                Licking his lips and rolling up the cuffs of his sleeves, Skids moved towards the sink.

 

* * *

 

The day had progressed better than Skids could have hoped for. The work was mundane, but he couldn’t have been happier to have it. With no shortage of dishes coming his way, he remained busy, often whistling to himself until the bartender showed him the mini radio on a shelf. As long as he kept it low, he could listen to it, and he did.

                Stacking dishes, polishing glasses, and finally as mid afternoon rolled around, Skids started to bring down the first wave of trash to the dumpster. Only two bags, which he easily tossed up into the bin before closing the lid.

                A half hour later he returned with two more but paused at the bottom of the stairs when he noticed something was wrong.

                The dumpster's lid had been flipped open, and that in itself wouldn’t have been weird considering the ocean breeze. No, it had been the fact that several trash bags that had been inside of the dumpster were now torn up and spread about at the dumpster’s sides.

                “What the hell?” Mildly irritated, Skids stepped closer to the mess. The bags had been torn open too wide for it to have been seagulls- plus, there didn’t seem to be any around anyway.

                A rustling noise from behind the dumpster caught Skids’ attention and he stood up. The entire dumpster shifted in place, and the rustling continued as whatever was behind it moved.

                Sidestepping and freezing upon a fat, white tail flopping down from behind the dumpster, Skids blinked in surprise.

                _A siren?_

It was plumper than any siren he had ever seen, not that he had seen many on his time on the island but he hadn’t been a stranger to them. Though he had never seen one that was nearly all white with beautiful red patterns running along it’s back. Some of the patterns faded against its arms and fins, giving it a rather simple look than some of the more complex mer he had seen. It was strange, but it seemed smaller than any mer he had seen before, maybe it was just an adolescent mer, or maybe Skids really had no concept of the range of their body sizes. All he really knew was they could be hostile.

The mer had it’s back to Skids, seeming to not even notice he was there. Instead it was more interested in the torn open trash bag it was milling around inside. Upon finding what it was looking for, the fins along its back flapped slightly.

In its hands was the carcase of what appeared to be a leftover fish from the restaurant. Practically nothing but bones it didn’t seem to deter the mer from sticking it in its mouth and crunching down on it.

The crunching of the bones was a bit sickening, but the mer went unbothered. It seemed to cough after a few crunches, a bit of the bones seeming to not agree with it before it dropped the carcass and moved on.  

                As carefully and quietly as possible, Skids took a step back, and then another, hoping to sneak away from the creature.

                As his foot came down, his heel tapped a stray can, causing it to skitter across the ground.

                The mer sat up, fins suddenly standing at attention when it realized it wasn’t alone. Whirling around, arms full of discarded food items, it hunched downwards defensively. It’s fins wiggled but it didn’t hiss, instead it shifted uncomfortably.

                “Whoa-” Before Skids could say anything more, the mer whirled back around and scooted away. It’s body bounced hard against the ground as it moved, almost struggling to move at the speed it was. It was certainly anything but graceful as it allowed itself to slide down the rock face leading to the beach.

                It tumbled, landing on its side and sitting up quickly to shake the sense back into itself. Gathering all the food items it had dropped on the way down, it bounded across the sad excuse of a beach and into the water.

                It turned back to look at Skids, another fish carcass hanging from it’s mouth as it cocked its head slightly to one side. Almost as if it was confused Skids hadn’t chased after it, it waited to see what he would do.

                When Skids did nothing but stand there and watch it, the mer sank in the water, and like that it was gone.

                “Jesus.” Rubbing the hair at the back of his neck, Skids looked back at the mess the creature had made. Cursing a few times, he began picking up each bag. One by one he tossed them back into the dumpster and gathered the stray pieces that had been tossed about. Once everything was back in order, he slammed the lid to the dumpster.

                Heading back inside, Skids found the manager in the kitchen stacking clean dishes neatly on a shelf.

                “There was a siren outside,” The manager seemed unfazed by the comment, “it was going through the trash.” That got his attention.

                “Blasted thing,” Snagging a broom that had been leaning in the corner of the room, the manager moved for the back door, “always making a mess.”

                “It’s not there anymore, I think I scared it off.” That hadn’t stopped the manager from going outside and checking to make sure it really was gone. Once he returned and placed the broom back where it belonged, he sighed in frustration.

                “Does it come around often?” Judging by the larger man’s lack of reaction and then sudden reaction, it seemed logical.

                “It’s here _all_ the time.” The manager only shook his head. “It’s harmless, normally it sits on the rocks just outside the deck area of the restaurant. It’s sort of funny, it seems like it watches TV.”

                “It watches TV?” From the outside deck the mounted TV’s in the main dining room could be seen thanks to the large glass sliding doors.

                “Well, it _looks_ like it watches TV but in all reality I think it’s just interested in watching customers. Who knows what those things think, it might just like the area, I don’t know.” He shrugged at Skids. “The only time it ever gets close to the building is when people stand close to the railing on the deck and toss shrimp over to it. I used to forbid it but it turns out the stupid thing is quite the tourist trap.”

                “People feed it?”

                “People feed it like they do duck, seagulls, and any other animal that find cute enough to throw food at. It responds to any kind of food but people like to buy it little shrimps and toss them over to it. Turned out to be quite the money maker, so I let it stay around. Animal control could take care of it but then I would get less mainland folks ogling over it.” The manager chuckled to himself as he worked.

                People on the mainland were saps like that. Mers were terribly common on the island while rarely being seen anywhere near the mainland. By the island they were safe, close to the mainland they were hunted and killed for whatever reasons.

                “The only times it goes through the trash is when the main deck is closed for long periods of time, and since we had a few days of rain, the deck has been closed. Which means less food for it, and it comes looking.” Resulting in the torn trash and scraps it steals.

                “I see.”

                “What? Have you never seen one before? Did you come here right from the mainland?”

                “I’ve seen them before, just caught me off guard is all.” Taking a stack of dishes handed to him, Skids started to put them away as he continued. “I did used to live on the mainland but moved out here a few years back. Memories a bit fuzzy from there… but I used to live in the center of the island.” The island itself was small, but anybody who lived in the center was less likely to come into contact with the ocean wildlife unless they visited the aquarium.

                “Well, you don’t have to worry about him if you see him around again. Things harmless, as far as I know. He’s never tried to hurt anybody and he’s been around for the last four or so years. Comes and goes but usually he’s around. If you see it getting into something it shouldn’t just rush it with the broom and it will take off. You might have to yell a bit too, but that's the all it’s ever taken to shoo it off.”

                Not exactly sure he wanted to tussle with something that no double weighed three times as much as he did, Skids just smiled and nodded.

 

* * *

 

The sun had sank below the horizon line and the lights in the restaurant had been dimmed to give it a calmer atmosphere. The large sliding glass doors had been slid open a foot wide to allow in the cool night’s breeze. Despite being close to closing time, a few people still lingered at the bar. All in all the day had progressed rather calmly, leaving Skids to do nothing more now than wipe down unoccupied tables.

                Skids moved to each table one by one, refilling the sugar baskets and placing a few new creamers in each little bowl at the end of the tables. As he worked to get a new more napkins in each holder, he couldn’t help but glance out the large glass window out towards the rocky shore.

                It was dark out now, but Skids’ eyes managed to lock onto something sitting along one of the massive rocks against the shore. It had been hard to make out at first and for a moment his mind had reduced it to another rock until it moved.

                It didn’t take him long to figure out it had been the mer from earlier. It sat with it’s tail curled around its thick body, the tip lightly wagging the moment it seemed to notice Skids staring. It was hard to see it’s face, maybe it wasn’t staring, but it was certainly facing the building.

                Looking over his shoulder at the bar, not a single person there seemed to notice or even care about the creature out there. Then again the manager had said he was around all the time and to regulars he probably wasn’t much of a novelty anymore.

                Looking back out towards the water, Skids for a reason he wasn’t quite sure of, raised his hand and gave a sheepish wave. Small enough that nobody behind him would know what he was doing, but long enough that the mer might see, and it did.

                It sat up, head tilted to one side as it watched him, and for a moment Skids had been sure it raised a clawed hand back at him.

                Looking back at the bar to see if anybody once again might have noticed the interaction, Skids anxiously rubbed at the back of his neck.

                Finishing up his work in the dining room, Skids moved away from the windows and back into the kitchen.

                It hadn’t been until about two hours later that the restaurant had finally cleared out. By then the majority of the lights had been turned off leaving nothing but the glow of the bar’s beer rack lit and the faint glow from the TV’s to illuminate the dark dining room.

                As Skids exited the kitchen into the dining apron now off, he stole one last glance out the window, surprised to see the mer still out there.

                It was no longer sitting up, but instead laying down in what appeared to be a tight ball. Almost cat like, it just laid there and continued to watch the building.

                The room suddenly grew darker and Skids turned around to see the manager turning the TV’s off.

                Outside, the mer seemed to suddenly sink in on itself, almost as if it was saddened to see the TV’s turn off.

                “Skids,” A hand slapped down on Skids’ shoulder and he turned to his new boss, ‘do you mind locking up? It’s easy and you might as well learn how to do it today if you’re here for the long haul.”

                “Yeah, I can do that.”

                “Perfect, here then,” Handing over a single brass key, the manager pointed to the kitchen, “lock the backdoor, make sure all of the appliances are off, do one last sweep to make sure prep for the morning is ready, and of course make sure you lock the front door before you leave. Easy enough?”

                “Easy enough.” Skids repeated as the manager slapped his back and bid him goodnight, and just like that, Skids was alone.

                Tossing the key up and down in his hand a few times, Skids moved for the bar and stepped behind it. Kneeling behind the bar top and taking the TV remote from a small bin, he turned one back on.

                Outside, the mer on the rocks perked up, its head cocking to the right in confusion. It had been hard to see but Skids had been sure those red fins flapped slightly at his action.

                He wasn’t sure why, but something about it made his mouth curl into a small smile.

                Getting right to work closing down the building, it hadn’t taken Skids more than a half an hour to do so. By the time all he had left to do was lock the front door, the mer on the rocks had mysteriously vanished.

                A wave of sadness washed over Skids as he stood by the sliding glass doors. His eyes bounced over every rock to try and find that plump body, but nothing. With a soft sigh, he closed the glass door, locked it and turned the TV off.

                Heading to the main door and stepping outside, Skids closed and locked it. Stuffing the key into his pocket and making his descent down to where his car was parked along the shelled parking lot, he unlocked it and climbed into the back.

                Falling hard onto the seat cushions, he sighed, his eyes heavy now. His first day's work complete, money well earned on Friday, now he just had to make it there.

                Getting as comfortable as possible, Skids allowed the call of sleep to carry him off. Unaware that outside, the mer that had been sitting on the rocks was peeking out from one of the large wooden supports holding up the dock.

                Its fins had fluttered the moment it had watched Skids walk down the stairs, and it sank back behind it’s cover so it wouldn’t be seen when Skids walked by.

                Waiting a few minutes after Skids had climbed into his car, it scooted out from behind the pole.

                Dragging itself across the shells, it sniffed at the car only a few feet from it. It peeped thoughtfully, leaning down to look at the tires, and then sniffing at the gas cap lid.

                Uninterested in them, it scooted up to the back window, cautiously peeping into the car. Eyes scanning the interior, it spotted Skids, one arm slung over his eyes as he slept.

                Sitting up on it’s tail a bit more for extra height, the mer pressed it’s flat nose against the glass.

                He watched as Skids’ chest rose and fell with each hard breath, and when he shifted, the mer sank back a bit.

                Looking at the door handle and touching it, the mer dropped it’s hand. A few more little peeps escaped it before it finally turned it’s back to the car.

                Scooting off towards the water, it vanished.

               


End file.
